


The Space Between

by Asterglow



Category: DCU, DCU (Animated), Young Justice, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 23:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1244521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asterglow/pseuds/Asterglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick and Wally share a bed under awkward circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Space Between

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emblems](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emblems/gifts).



> Trope Meme: Sharing a Bed

Normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal at all. But Robin was all business tonight, still in civvies sorting case files on his wrist comp and silently kicking himself because this was a consequence that he hadn’t really considered. And he’d considered many, many consequences. 

Maybe he’d figured this would be easy to avoid, and honestly, it should have been.

But Wally and Dick weren’t there when Kaldur had assigned rooms, and nobody knew (why would they?) so naturally, their leader stuck the two of them together (and why wouldn’t he?). Because normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal at all.

Normally, in fact, they’d be bickering over how many pillows each of them got, or who got to shower first, or debating whether or not the League would cover the bill if Wally ate all the candy by the mini-fridge (“You’ll be wiggling all night,” Dick would whine) or trying to hack into the hotel porn channels.

But tonight Wally sat freshly showered—Dick had told him to just go ahead—and perfectly still on the bed, trying to avoid eye contact without trying to avoid eye contact and trying to act like everything was fine without trying to act like he was acting like everything was fine. Dick had never seen him so still. The channels flipped by wordlessly; Wally barely gave the TV time to render an image before moving on. No porn in sight.

Porn was the problem, anyway. 

Well, porn and Zatanna. In moments of weakness, Dick liked to pin this on Zatanna.

She was the one who found the amateur Kid Flash and Robin porn on some fansite; she was the one who thought it would be “hilarious” to make Dick squirm by bringing it into the bedroom. Honestly, it had never even crossed Dick’s mind, not even a ghost of a conscious thought before he saw it, but she was the one who teasingly told him to “llet eht hturt” when she asked if he liked it, and they were both shocked at the admission that fell from his lips.

And that really should have been it. 

But it wasn’t, and now that the idea couldn’t be un-thought, it started to nag at him, eat away, and Zee noticed. She cared. They weren’t exclusive; they never had been, so it wasn’t jealousy or manipulation of any kind when she egged him on, teasing at first and then more seriously. Zee would come with news every time Artemis complained about Wally: She was fed up with this habit or that one, and isn’t it funny how that kind of thing never got on Dick’s nerves? Didn’t Wally ditch Artemis on such and such a day to hang out with Dick instead, wow that pissed her off, and what do you think that could mean? And gee, Wally’s appetite would eventually bankrupt anyone without a Wayne fortune to support it, don’t you think?

And Dick listened. He really shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t help it. Because who knew, maybe Wally was curious. Surely, he was curious, how could he not be? Everyone was curious. He totally had to be curious. Like at least once.

And let’s face it, Dick was smoking. Everyone thought he was hot.  _Everyone._  (Again, how could they not?) Dick had almost lost count of the string of girls, and Wally’d only ever been with  _one_  person. Which was laudable, really, but come on. Totally had to be curious. 

If there was any dude that could make this happen—anyone who Wally might break formation for—it would be for someone hot, rich, (someone who really, totally  _got_  Wally, who Wally could  _trust_  and Wally knew trusted  _him_ , who really, really  _loved_ —), and badass. Someone like Dick.

It wouldn’t even have to be a Thing, just a little thing, just … you know. Curiosity.

No big deal.

So maybe it was a fit of narcissism last Tuesday that inspired him to say something—he was Dick  _Grayson_ , he’d  _never_  been turned down.  

Dick would never, ever intentionally come between two of his best friends, but he started paying closer attention when things were more “off” between them rather than “on,” and Wally had rolled in that day to help prep for a mission bemoaning the the latest argument he was having with Artemis for the  _umpteenth_  time. 

Wally had buried his head in his hands, face skyward, and groaned, “Augh, she just texted me to say she’s taking some other dude to your stupid Gotham Academy dance this Friday.”

"Yeah?" The gears in Dick’s mechanical grapple ground to a halt as he stopped calibrating them.

"Some guy named," he fished out his phone and squinted at the text, a frown at the corner of his mouth, "Mike  _Raith_ bourne?” 

Dick whistled, low and dangerous.

"What?"

He just shrugged and returned to the black device in his hand, one eye trained on Wally’s face as his cheeks flushed. At the very least, Wally was really cute when he was getting teased.

"What, do you know this guy?"

Dick had no idea who it was. Some senior. But Wally was already bent into Dick’s space, twisting down to peer up at his unreadable expression.

"Dude, you’d tell me, right?"

Dick put on his best sheepish face and hemmed and hawed. “ _Weeeell_ ,” he said through bitten teeth, “I dun _no_  …”

This was apparently enough for Wally—too much, clearly—because he was already on the other side of the room, phone tossed on the couch.

"That’s it!" he said, empty hands in the air. "Can’t do it anymore. She’s great, but this," his hands flapped ineffectually, "this is the same thing. Over and over. If it’s not her it’s me, right? Like we take fucking  _turns_.”

Dick laughed subtly into his glove, carefully ratcheting up the grapple. Wally’s rant faded into the background as a thought spun to life in his head. Dick really hadn’t  _intended_  to bait Wally; he hadn’t  _intended_  to say anything, but when he spotted an opening … His finger twitched involuntarily on the trigger.

"You should come with me."

The words were out of Dick’s mouth before he could retrieve them, and Wally barely registered the sharp hook that had embedded itself in the rock just behind his head. 

"What?"

Dick remained decidedly, carefully  _non_ chalant, turning his attention to the handle that was still in his hands like this was No Big Deal. ”To the dance.”

Another beat of staring, and Wally laughed, sharp and  _oooh-I-get-it_  clear, and he tugged the grappling hook out of the wall before bringing it back to Dick. “Hahah,  _yeah_ , right?” he said, inexplicably handing Dick the wire, which he would have had to retract mechanically whether or not Wally had returned it to its owner. “That’ll totally show her.” 

He laughed again, and spun back toward Dick with flair, saying, “So which one of us will wear the pretty dress?” He put his hands under his chin and batted his eyes, “Should I tell my parents you’ll have me home by ten because you’re not  _that_  kind of guy?” A gust of wind and Wally was right next to him, an elbow in his side: “Too bad it’d be a  _lie_ , eh? Eh?”

Now Wally was pretending to waltz around the room, and Dick’s eyelid twitched. He’d planned to play it off as a joke, of course, but that was also the problem:  ** _HE_**  had planned to play it off as a joke. He hadn’t quite bet on Wally finding it  _completely_  hilarious from the get go, and really, it was sort of rude for Wally not to even  _consider_  it as a serious proposition. He could at least extend the courtesy of getting  _flustered_. Dick was too busy feeling annoyed that he’d been so completely brushed off to notice that Wally had ground to a stop in front of him.  _  
_

He blinked back to green eyes looking him straight in the face and, well, it was too late now, so he joined in: “Yup, hilarious!”

But he’d stalled for half a breath, taken one second too many to reply, and Wally’s smile faltered. “Wait, you’re not serious, are you?”

_Pfft_. Dick shook his head and walked away with a wave and a laugh. It was  _still_  too late, though, and Wally was trailing after him down the hall anxiously, a hair’s breadth away from wringing his hands from nerves. Dick had never been more irritated that someone knew him so well in his life. He used the annoyance to keep himself afloat, though, so that after Wally’s fifth bumbling, “Sorry, you’re not my—” he spun with a grin and a punch, declaring victory: “ _HA_  I can’t  _believe_  you thought I was serious, West,” a little too loudly, and, “You should have seen the look on your face,” and “Zee will be so pissed I didn’t get a picture,” taking another playful jab at Wally in the ribs. The speedster nodded uncertainly, laughing and awkwardly returning the jabs. He was oddly quiet though, consumed by a stillness, a focus that bred tension so thick Dick could  _cut_  it.

A stillness that consumed Wally right now as he stared at the television in the hotel room, frowning, like it might explode if he looked away.

He knew.

Even if he hadn’t known for sure in that second, the following week made it painfully obvious that Dick had no idea how to deal with actual rejection. Oh, things were “normal,” alright— _too_  normal—Dick would greet Wally over-enthusiastically, and Wally would return it, too bright and loud, which would stall eventually into awkward silence. Dick even thought that a couple of Wally’s overtures were sincere attempts to get back to normal, but they still turned too swiftly into “ _uhms”_  and empty spaces as Dick waited in agony for Wally to get on with whatever conversation he was trying to make. These conversations became, “ _See you laters,”_  and, “ _Cool, man, call you for sure_ ,” which turned into excuses and schoolwork and “missions at home,” which dissolved quickly into not much at all. Rejection was bad enough without all of that, and the sick, lonely feeling in the pit of his stomach, the lump at his throat whenever he thought of his friend—they still hadn't faded.

It had only been about a week, but it felt like an  _eternity_. 

Couldn’t they just get to the part where it never happened?

Where it was no big deal?

So now Dick sat hunched over a cheap motel table trying to pretend Wally just wasn’t there at all—a terrible irony, given that if he or Wally had turned up on time for the briefing, instead of both hoping they’d avoid small talk if they arrived after it began, they could have signed up for separate rooms from the get-go.

Well, the case files had been handled fifteen minutes ago, and it was clear that Wally was dead set on flipping channels until the morning or until they both spontaneously combusted, and Dick needed to shower.

"Is it okay if I…?" he asked, gesturing toward the washroom.

Of  _course_  it was okay—Wally was almost dry—but Dick felt an odd need to double check every little thing. Wally snapped out of a cloud, blinking in surprise. “Uh, yeah,” he said, eyes flickering over Dick. “I should probably just … go to sleep anyway.”

It was 10:30.

"Yeah." Dick nodded abruptly. He got to his feet just as Wally did, almost running into each other as they crossed to opposite sides of the room, awkwardly doing the "no, you first" thing. Dick stopped to scoop up his overnight bag at the door to the shower, and Wally cleared his throat. 

"Uh, Dick?" 

"Hmm?" he busied himself with the zipper, tossing a glance over his shoulder.

Wally’s eyebrows knit, and he finally opened his mouth. “… I think I left my, uhm. Can you throw my bag over here?” 

That was obviously not what he was going to say. Dick shrugged and chucked Wally’s small backpack at him. “Sure.” The door to the bathroom clicked shut and locked behind him before Wally caught it. 

The cramped space nagged at his elbows while the lights flickered on. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bothered to get undressed  _inside_  the bathroom. It was nothing Wally hadn’t  _seen_  before, hell they hung out half-naked maybe even  _most_  of the time they were around each other alone.

Dick kicked Wally’s crumpled sweatshirt he’d left on the floor out of the way as he crawled into the shower, letting the warm water wash over his hair, a little sticky from the exertion that day. He was normally efficient, but today he dawdled, relishing the only comfortable moment he’d had in the last three hours. But even though the water soothed aching muscles, it couldn't wash away the nagging feeling that he'd sacrificed a lot more than a little dignity last week, and his fingers shook over his face as he scrubbed it.

Wally would hopefully be sound asleep by the time he got out. 

The room was quiet and dark and cool when Dick finally emerged, his pjs clinging to still damp skin. He hated that. 

Wally’s breathing was even and slow; if he wasn’t asleep already, he was close, and Dick paused for a telltale soft snore before climbing into the king bed and positioning himself as far from him as possible.

He tucked a pillow under his arm between him and Wally and held his breath, staring at the ceiling and trying not to relax, lest he wind up with his face in Wally’s lap when he woke up or something ridiculous like that. Even though it had never happened before, that was the way things worked, right?

But Wally was too warm, too  _familiar_ , and Dick couldn’t  _help_  but let his guard down, slipping into trusted habits with trusted people, eyes drifting shut and the rest of him following into sleep. 

It turns out he  _should_  have worried, because his eyes flew open six hours later when the tickle of a warm—too warm, almost  _hot_ —breath ruffled the hair at the nape of his neck. He was on his side, under the pressure of a firm hug, where  _he had wrapped Wally’s arms around his torso, and this was bad._

Panicked, Dick chose the worst of all possible solutions and leapt out from under Wally’s grasp across the room, hands up like he was getting arrested. Wally groggily followed him out of sleep at the really over-dramatic disturbance, just in time to figure out what had happened. 

"I’m sorry!" Dick blurted, red in the face all the way down to his shoulders. "I didn’t—"

But Wally was sitting up, too—“Nono,” he stuttered,hands in the air. “I didn’t—that was—” He took a deep breath, breaking Dick’s gaze to collect himself.

“That was—that was all me. I—” He lapsed into a serious, stern expression directed at the sheets. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I was just … testing.”

"Testing?" Dick repeated, dumbfounded. His tongue felt suddenly thick in his mouth, like he’d forgotten where it rested.

"You know," Wally shrugged, half-jokingly rolling his eyes. "Like when a theory loves a hypothesis very much and—"

"Hypothesis? What  _hypothesis_?”

"I just …" Wally trailed off. "I didn’t know—I’ve been trying to tell you—" He glanced up at Dick who was still staring at him incredulously. “For someone who calls himself Boy Wonder you sure are dumb—”

"Whoa, first of all, I have  _never called—_ "Dick crossed his hands in a “never mind” before narrowing his eyes dangerously at Wally. “What  _exactly_  are you saying?” _  
_

Wally chewed on his lips and stared at his hands in his lap for a second.

“I guess I’m asking if that invitation to the dance on Friday is still open.” He glanced out of the corner of his eye under thick eyelashes, as if he were half afraid Dick would start laughing.

But it was like Wally had punched him in the chest; Dick could barely breathe.

“Wh-What about Artemis?” 

"What about her? She’s taking Mike." Wally cleared his throat and set his green eyes clear and intent on Dick. "We’re—we’re good. But we’ve got, you know. Other plans. Besides each other. For now."

He grinned at Dick’s completely mystified expression. “I  _tried_ to tell you, dude. But you kept running off. I was afraid you were so pissed that you had changed your mind.” 

Dick collapsed on the edge of the bed as Wally rambled on: “Like, you wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise—”

"—are you  _kidding_  me? I about  _died of starvation_  every time I waited for you to get another word out—”

"—yeah, whatever, " Wally dismissed him with a roll of his eyes. "And last night, I still wasn’t sure, so I… you fell asleep and I just thought I’d … see. What happened." 

Dick muffled a snort into his pillow. 

"… You still haven’t answered my question."

"Hm?"

"Is that invitation to the dance still on?" 

Dick smiled into the pillow, a smile that spread from his mouth to his cheeks to his eyes, and his whole face was bright with mirth when he turned to Wally and nodded. 

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

Wally had settled on his side, head propped on one hand. “Cool,” he said, making a “com’ere” gesture with his free arm, and Dick, grinning, rolled so that his back was to Wally’s chest as he buried his nose in the hair at the nape of Dick’s neck the way it had been that morning. 

"You know, I could get used to this," Wally murmured. 

"I  _knew_ it,” Dick said happily. “I knew you would, all along.” 

~Fin~


End file.
